It said on the website
by Gertrude2034
Summary: A dialogue-only fic between House and a woman he is paying to 'entertain' him. One shot written for the Fox Forum OC Friday Night Challenge, prompt: House meets someone online. Some bad language and adult themes.


A/N: This was written for the Fox Forum Friday Night O/C Challenge, with the prompt: "House meets someone online". It is a dialogue-only fic, and I have stolen the format (and the "..." device) from Juliabohemian, so I owe her a debt of gratitude. Warning: some bad language and adult themes.

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* * *

"It said on your website that you do the things other places won't."

"That's right."

"What does that include?"

"What do you think it includes, sugar?"

"The website was annoyingly nonspecific."

"You want to sit in the chair or lay down?"

"I'll sit, for now."

"You want me to strip?"

"Do _you_ want to strip?"

". . ."

"That's okay, not . . . yet. I like the black number. How do you get it on with all those straps?"

"Practice makes perfect."

"And those heels?"

"Actually they're pretty comfortable. I wouldn't do the grocery shopping in them, but they're better than they look."

"They look hot."

"Can I sit down?"

"I thought you said the shoes were comfortable?"

"They are, but clearly you're a talker, and if it's okay with you, I'd like to sit."

"I'm a talker?"

"The fact that the meter is already running and your cock isn't in my mouth means yes, you're a talker."

"Oh."

"I can sit on your lap if you want."

"Nah. Just sit."

"Thanks, that's better. So what do you do for a living?"

"Guess."

"Yeah, right."

". . ."

"Okay. Post office. You work at the post office."

"I really look like I work at the post office?"

"Could be."

". . ."

"Okay, so not the post office."

"Not the post office."

"You look like a guy who wanted to be a rock star but never quite made it."

"Do you flatter all your clients this way?"

"You're special."

"Nice."

"So I figure you own a record store. That's what thwarted rock stars end up doing, isn't it?"

"Okay, there were two very interesting things in that sentence."

"What?"

"First, a _record_ store? You're older than you look."

"Old enough to remember records."

"Remember the first one you bought?"

"Bryan Adams, _Summer of 69_. It was red transparent vinyl."

"Not that old then."

"No, not _that_ old."

". . ."

". . ."

"God, I feel old."

"You look okay to me."

"I'm paying you to say that."

"No, you're paying me to make you come."

"God, I feel old."

"What was the second thing?"

"Huh?"

"You said there were _two_ interesting things."

"Oh, yeah. _Thwarted._"

"What about it?"

"It's a ten dollar word."

"Are you insinuating that hookers can't have decent vocabularies?"

"_Insinuating_. I love it."

"Hey, I went to college."

"Where? St Mary's College of Tramps and Trannies?"

"Look, do you want to fuck or not?"

"You mean you'd actually rather let a stranger have his way with you than have your educational background insulted?"

"At this moment, yes."

"Interesting."

". . ."

". . ."

"What was it about our website that made you decide to make a booking?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Actually, I designed it."

"Yeah?"

"I have a website design business."

"Hooking just a hobby, then? Like to keep your hand in? So to speak."

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

"So I'm told."

"You didn't answer me earlier. Do you own a record store?"

"Yep. You're a very perceptive woman."

"Bullshit."

"So you're _not_ perceptive?"

". . ."

"I'd _like_ to own a record store, does that count?"

"Do you like your job? Your _real_ job?"

"It's okay, I guess."

"It must pay okay."

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm not cheap."

"No, you're not."

"And neither is that t-shirt."

"This thing?"

"I bought one for my husband."

"You have a husband?"

"Yes. And before you ask, yes, he does know."

"And?"

"And it's how I can afford to buy him t-shirts like that."

"Ah."

"Want me to get you started?"

"I'm good for now. Have you done any other websites?"

"Need one, do you?"

"I might."

"Yes. But mostly in this industry. People feel comfortable working with me, because they know I understand the business and what the customers will be looking for."

"What _are_ the customers looking for?"

"Specifics."

"Ha."

"I know. I advised them against what they did for this place, but what can you do? Still, it worked. You're here, aren't you?"

"I guess."

"Maybe it was tantalizing enough to get you interested and make the booking."

"I still don't know what 'doing the things other places won't' means."

"Need me to draw you a diagram, sugar?"

"I think I've got the anatomy down, thanks anyway."

"What do you want?"

"Huh?"

"What do you want? It must be pretty twisted."

"Oh yeah. It's twisted."

"You won't surprise me."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Long enough that I'm no longer surprised."

"By anything?"

"Nope."

"What if I asked you crawl around on your hands and knees and meow like a cat?"

"Done that before."

"Really?"

"That and a lot more. Look, sugar, your time's running out. Wanna get down to business?"

"Do you think your website designing will be successful enough that you'll be able to stop doing this?"

"Why would I want to stop doing this?"

". . ."

"I work part-time. It pays exceptionally well. And I get to meet interesting people."

"Interesting people like me."

"Exactly."

"You poor sod."

"That wasn't actual pity, was it?"

"No."

"Didn't think so."

"You should put your photo on the website. You're very attractive. Especially in that quasi-bondage get-up."

"Thanks. But no, I don't want my face on the website."

"Your mom doesn't know?"

"Her and some others. I'm not ashamed, I just don't need the grief."

"Yeah, I get that."

"Why don't you lie down on the bed and I'll give you a massage?"

"You could do it while I'm sitting here."

"Okay."

"My shoulders _are _aching."

"There you go. Does that feel good?"

"Yeah. Right _there_. Ow. Yeah."

"Why do you need the cane?"

"Dog sledding accident in Norway. Horrific. Only three huskies survived."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"You're really full of it, aren't you?"

"Pretty much."

"You have nice arms."

"I do my best."

"And your chest. You must get a lot of exercise on that cane."

". . ."

"How's your other cane? Does it need some exercise?"

"I guess. See what you can do."

"Okay."

". . ."

". . ."

". . ."

"Uh, sugar . . . ?"

"Don't take it personally."

"No problems, shug. Happens all the time."

"I bet."

"Want me to use my mouth?"

"I think the party's over before it began."

"Oh."

"It's okay. You've been . . . great."

"Why don't you tell me more about what you wanted to see written on the website? About those twisted things you want? I'll just keep touching you and we'll see what happens."

"So what, you're using me as market research now that I can't get it up?"

"Why not?"

"You should tell people about this."

"About what?"

"That you're good with _talkers_."

"You know, I'm not, usually."

"I'm special?"

"Of course you are."

"Yeah, right."

". . ."

"You know, I think you've cured me."

"Cured you?"

"I used to see hookers regularly. Then I stopped for a while. There was a woman . . . _women_ . . ."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Don't want to talk about it?"

"No, really, nothing. _Nothing_ happened."

"And now?"

"And now, I'm different."

"Different how?"

"I don't know. Just different."

"Shug, next time you come visit me, you just go see your doctor the day before and get yourself some little blue pills. You take one of those and we'll have ourselves a fine time."

"You mean there's medication for this?"

"Yes, absolutely! You just take . . . oh, you're shitting me, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh."

"You want another half hour? I'll make it half price."

"I'm discount worthy?"

"Hey, you turned out to be more fun than I expected."

"And you didn't even come."

"No, I didn't even come."

"Do you?"

"What?"

"Ever come with clients?"

"Sometimes."

"Very diplomatic."

"Sometimes I do. I bet _you_ could make me."

"Oh, you're good."

"That's why they pay me the big bucks."

"Well, if I can sell a few more records, who knows, I might come back again."

"I thought you were cured?"

"Nothing's permanent."

"Aint that the truth."

"Can I touch your breasts? Is there enough time left?"

"A few minutes. Sure."

"They're nice. Real."

"Ah-huh."

". . ."

"How about if you stand up?"

"Why?"

"So you can touch me better."

"Okay."

"Now, if I just stand a little closer and put my arms around you, like this."

"Mmm."

"Nice?"

"Yeah."

"And I'll put my head on your shoulder."

"Yeah."

"And you can put your arms around my waist, here."

"Okay."

". . ."

". . ."

"It's not that twisted, you know."

"You reckon?"

"Yeah, I reckon."

"If you knew me better you might not say that."

"We do things here that other places won't."

"Ah."

"Next time we'll do this lying down. You can even go to sleep for a while if you want."

"That's _really_ twisted."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"You could put that on the website."

"Yeah. Maybe I will."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, sugar. Now, time's up."

THE END


End file.
